Well it took a month, but thanks to the amazing inefficiency of Apple Italia, I now have the ONE piece I needed to get my laptop working. Needless to say, I waited patiently and it was good practice in becoming chill like the Italians.
Allora…
So much has happened in one month that it’s kind of ridiculous for me to sum it all up in this entry. I’ll try to do that anyway, and then post more detail of actual events (with pictures!) when I have some more time.
In the past month, I began and completed three weeks of intensive Italian, made homemade spinach ravioli, started teaching English to crazed but well fed 4th and 5th graders, started work at a church, where I’m known as “bambola Americana” (American doll), that runs a clothing bank and soup kitchen, joined a gym, learned that Italy loves Phil Collins, hung out with Davide in Firenze, wasn’t attacked by pigeons in Piazza San Marco in Venezia, ate free samples at the Baci chocolate factory in Perugina, and started regular classes four days a week. They don’t have class on Friday’s in Italy ☺
I teach English to two 4th grade classes and one 5th grade class, an hour each class, once a week. Contemporary Italian society expects that people have an understanding of English but the school system here doesn’t have the funding to hire actual English teachers, so Italian teachers who don’t necessarily speak English are forced to teach the language, relying solely on books. This program is in effect for three years in order to fix this problem, and of course, to increase American students' exposure to Italians, which will in the end benefit my own language skills. 4th grade is doing the Wizard of Oz and 5th grade is doing Scooby Doo, and each week we read through and act out parts of the play and do different exercises to help kids learn the scripts.
On Monday’s and Wednesday’s I work three hours in the morning at the clothing bank a local church. I help organize the daily donations of clothes, shoes, toys, books, and bed sheets, and help show people as they come in throughout the morning to their various needs. Most of the visitors are immigrants from Romania, have moved from southern Italy, or are refugees from Sudan, among other places. It gets pretty intense at times with Italian dialects, Romanian, Spanish, basically everything but English, being shot around by people cramped into the small quarters of this glorified walk in closet. I do a lot of watching, and thankfully most people here have an endless sense of humor and are very patient with me. On Friday’s and Saturday’s I help serve pranzo at noon at their soup kitchen, or mensa. Everyone there is so kind, patient, and fun. They are like a family, just like Loaves in Ithaca, so I love it and am really comfortable there.
The gym I go to is pretty small, it’s just steps away from the university, but all of Siena’s kind go there: groups of high school kids, international students, young couples, and of course, old ladies. But as many of you reading this know, the old Italian lady is not your average senior citizen. The first day, I was on the tredmil next to a woman walking a gentle 3 kilometers/hour. She had her hair and makeup complete, and was decked out in gold clip-on earrings, and a black tiger print scarf to match her blouse, pants, and sneakers. She was staring at me, judging me I'm sure, and at one point yelled something inaudible to me that ended in “…EH?!" I just smiled and kept running, but you gotta love Italian women and their orders.
One Sunday my host mom came out with, “Why don’t you even listen to music!?” I explained to her that I have my iPod and usually listen to music with headphones, and after she called me “very modern,” insisting that headphones aren’t good for my ears and how it’s important to listen to the news in the morning, she whips out this radio and clears a space for it in my room. I’m definitely a fan of the radio home so I was happy to get away from my modern ways and have to turn the dial of this radio circa 1995. I seriously think I’ve heard more Phil Collin’s and Coolio’s “Gangstas Paradise” in the two weeks I’ve had this radio that in twenty years in the U.S. But who can get enough of either, honestly?
In the next few days post about the two professional cooking classes, where I made ravioli, tiramisù and tagliatelli, and my trips so far. And there will be pictures. Promise.
Ciao, amori!
